by Lulu Pratt
“Good,” I say with a nod and a wink. “Shall we?”
I stand and hold my hand out for her to take. She takes it, gently placing her fingers in my grip. As she does, I lead her around the table and through the restaurant. A moment later, I walk her to the elevator, and a moment after that, we are on it. As it takes us up to the room, we both watch the doors in silence, and as the doors open, we both step out.
I take her hand again, directing her down the hallway to the room. As we walk, my heart beats against my chest, and I have to work to contain myself. I want to throw her up against the wall and have my way with her right now. But I don’t. Instead, I open the door to the room and direct her inside.
“Nice, you weren’t lying,” she says as she enters, looking around the room with awe.
“Have I ever?” I respond.
I want to use the moment to bring up my proposal from earlier but decide against it. There is no need to push. If anything, my actions now will speak louder than my words ever can.
The moment I close the door behind myself, I walk up behind Carrie. It is just like I imagined two nights ago. I stand behind her and kiss her on the neck. She tilts her head, letting out a soft moan of pleasure as she allows me to continue.
As I do, my hands find her waist, wrapping themselves around her and pulling her in closer. My cock is rock hard, and I wedge it against her ass, letting her feel it. She pushes herself up against it, and I can sense that she likes what I have to offer.
Without further hesitation, I spin her around so she is facing me. I lean in and kiss her, and she returns it. It’s even more passionate than the one from a few nights ago, and I swear that our lips are going to catch on fire. She uses the perfect amount of tongue.
My hands are still on her waist, and I begin to move them up. I want to cup her breasts. I want to feel them.
A vibration in my pocket stops what I am doing. Fuck. I grimace as Carrie pulls away.
“You can answer it,” she says with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’ll be right back,” I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling it out. I sigh when I see who is calling me. Ben. Arguably, my only real friend. If it were anyone else, I would let it ring. But it’s not, and so I answer it.
“What?” I ask, a little too short.
“Blake, thank God,” he says. He’s out of breath. It sounds like he’s just run a marathon. “Are you free?”
I look back to Carrie before answering. “Yes,” I say. He sounds worried. I’ve never heard his voice like this, and it actually has me worried now too. “Are you okay? Is everything all right?”
“It’s Simon. He had a fall.”
“Is he okay?” I ask instantly.
“He is. Well, he should be, but I need get him to a hospital. Janet is working remotely tonight and I can’t reach her.”
Simon is Ben’s youngest son, and someone I care for deeply. Simon even calls me Uncle Blake, and the moment that Ben says that he needs to get to the hospital, I feel my stomach drop.
“Can you come over and stay with Tommy? He’s sleeping and getting over one of those bad childhood colds. I can’t take him with us, nor can I have him wake up and find us gone. Can you please come to the house and watch over Tommy for me? Please. I wouldn’t usually ask, but it’s an emergency.”
“No, of course, I will. I’m glad you called. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
I hang up the phone. Carrie is standing right behind me, watching me. She looks concerned rather than angry, and I am grateful for that.
“Is everything okay?” She asks, worry etched in her voice.
“It’s my friend. I have to go to his place and look after his son while he takes his other son to the hospital. He needs me there.”
I want to explain more, but I can’t, not right now.
“Of course,” she says sympathetically. “Do you want me to come?”
“No, it’s fine. And Carrie. I’m sorry.”
And I am, too. Not just for having to leave her high and dry, but for me. I wish that this didn’t happen, not now. But it had happened, and all I can do is hope that she forgives me.
Chapter 12
CARRIE
As I drive home, I can’t stop think about what just happened. Really, I should be upset by the whole thing. Blake invited me out to dinner, asked me to come upstairs and then ditched me the moment that we were up there. And not even. He ditched me the moment things began to heat up. And yet, I can’t be mad at him. No way.
In fact, I am impressed. The fact that Blake is willing to leave me for the son of his friend. The fact that he is willing to anger me, after asking such a big favor of me and wanting to stay on my good side. It’s so amazing. It’s so selfless.
He told me what was going on as he walked me to my car, and now, as I slowly steer my car to my crappy little studio apartment, I can’t help but see him in a whole new light. If he cares that much for the son of a friend, I can only imagine how much he will care for his own child.
Our child, if I agree. It definitely casts a new light on the events of the night.
In traffic, my eyes flash around the car, anything to take my mind off the boring drive. As I look around, I spot my cell phone, and the moment that I see it, I think of calling Blake. Just a quick call. Just to make sure that he is okay.
Without hesitation, I dial the number, and it’s only as it rings that I think whether it is such a good idea. Will I look desperate? Will I look needy? Maybe I should wait until tomorrow.
“Hello? Carrie?” He speaks into the other end of the line.
“Oh, hi,” I say, surprised, even though I’m the one who called him.
“Hey, everything all right?” he says, sounding worried for a moment.
“I just wanted to call to see how your friend’s son is,” I say. “Is he okay? Is everything, you know, all right?”
“Yeah, he’s fine,” he says, letting out an exasperated sigh. “He’ll be fine, anyway. My friend went into father mode and panicked just a little, but it’s going to be okay.”
“Great!” I exclaim a little too loudly.
“Hey, Carrie, thanks for calling. Seriously.” He sounds as serious as his words imply. “It means a lot.”
***
As I walk through the front door to my little hovel, I again feel that same sense of isolation and loneliness that I did the last time I left a date with Blake. Only this time, I feel even worse. I was so certain I was going to sleep with him. In fact, I meant to. I went to that date not expecting to come home tonight. And yet, here I am.
I just can’t stop thinking about Blake. Everything about him. His offer is the first thing that comes to mind as I walk into my bedroom and begin to undress. It is an odd offer, and totally out of left field, and yet, the more I get to know Blake, the more I think that it’s not such a bad idea.
The way he acted tonight with his best friend’s son. It shows that he’s not doing this on a whim, but that he actually cares.
I strip off my dress, dropping it to the floor. Underneath it, I wear a lace thong and no bra. I don’t need a bra. My breasts have managed to defy gravity for longer than they should, and as I catch sight of them in the mirror, I can’t help but wonder what Blake would think of them. I’m sure he would love them.
With thoughts of Blake, I reach my hand up and pinch my nipple. It stings, but it also sends a shiver down my spine and through my legs. I pinch my other nipple harder, and I relish in the sensation.
Almost subconsciously, I slowly lower my hand between my legs. I begin to stroke the outside, above the thong. Softly at first and then harder. The whole time, I think of Blake and what I would be doing to him right now, were it not for that call.
I’m about to push my panties to the side when I suddenly remember my new little gift to myself sitting in my dresser. I hurry across and open the top drawer, revealing a long, purple vibrator. I turn it on, clenching it in my hand. The vibrations send a pulse up my body, and
my folds begin to moisten.
I lie back on my bed, peeling my thong off at the same time. With the vibrator on, I run it down my navel, over my pelvis, and down my thighs. It sends pulses through my body directly into my center. I imagine that it’s Blake doing it. That he’s kissing my body. Every inch of it. Each kiss getting closer and closer to my need.
With that thought in mind, I press the humming vibrator against my folds, pushing it onto my clit. The sensation is unreal, and I bite down on my lip to stop myself from screaming. I hold the vibrator against my clit for longer, allowing it to grow and engorge. As it does, I feel myself moisten even more. I want Blake inside me.
I squeeze his thick cock in my hand and stifle a moan. His cock is pulsing, his desire to get inside of me not hidden by anything. I brush my lips against his stiff cock again, teasing it, waiting for him to beg.
“I want to be inside of you, Carrie,” he growls in the recess of my mind.
“I want that too,” I spread my legs just a little more, slipping the vibrator inside me. It slides along my entrance, dripping in thick lubrication. I’m naughty for him. Only for him.
I press the vibrator into my tight entrance and groan, letting the image of him fucking me take over. He rams all of himself into me, forcing me to open for him, to bow down to whatever he wants from me.
My legs shake as he gives me a wicked grin and bids me to come hard and fast. He’s in control. Not me.
I can feel the heat working its way up my legs as he fucks me so good, not caring about anything but my pleasure. The heat of my building orgasm reaches my belly, threatening to explode from the inside out. I scream for him to come, and as I scream for it, I make it happen. I come, all over my vibrator, all over Blake’s cock. It’s sensational, and I never want it to end.
But more than that, I want it to be the real thing. I want it to be Blake. Soon. It has to happen soon.
Chapter 13
BLAKE
It’s early morning, and I’ve been up most of the night, sitting by Tommy’s side. I tried to get some sleep, but it was that horrible sleep, where you are awake more often than not, tossing and turning in a chair. Needless to say, I’m a little groggy.
But I don’t mind. I would do it all again. I’m just glad that Simon is okay, and as I leave Ben’s home and the morning sun hits my face, I relish the chance to head home and take a nap.
“Thanks again,” Ben says to me as he walks me to my car. “Seriously. Simon will be okay. A small concussion, nothing he can’t handle. Should be up and running again in no time.”
“It’s okay, really,” I respond as I climb in my car. “You would do the same for me.”
“And I hope that one day, I get the chance,” he says back.
I know what he means. He wants me to have a child of my own almost as much as I want a child. He’s my biggest champion and thinks that I would make a great father. I hope that soon, I will be able to prove him right.
***
I wake up to the sight of the setting sun. It’s disorientating, and it takes me a while to collect myself and remember what happened the night before. But as I sit up, it all slowly comes back to me.
I’m in my own bed, back home. As soon as I got back from Ben’s place, I took a much-needed nap. That nap evidently turned into full-on sleep. The setting sun indicates that I have been out for at least seven hours.
Still a little out of it, I reach across my bed and pick up my cell phone. I dial Ben’s number, wanting to see how he and Simon are doing.
“Hey bud, how are you feeling?” Ben asks the moment he answers.
“I’m fine,” I say dismissively. “How’s Simon, though? He’s the one who was in hospital. Not me.”
“Oh, he’s fine. Janet’s with him now,” Ben sounds happy, and I’m glad that his son is okay. “Say, what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Passing time until it’s dark enough for me to go back to bed.” I am still tired and knew that the moment I am able, I would be back in bed.
“Feel like getting a drink? It’s on me.”
“Now how can I pass that up,” I say with a chuckle.
***
The bar that I meet Ben at is about as close to a neighborhood bar as Ben or I have. He lives about twenty minutes away from me, so the bar is as close to halfway between our houses as we could find. We always meet here when he can pull himself away from the family.
“You look awful,” he jokes as I pull up a seat at the table. He got here before me and, in true Ben fashion, has already ordered my drink. I pick it up and take a long, deep sip, savoring the taste.
“Thanks. I didn’t have time to do my hair unfortunately.”
“Well, in the future, can you make the time? I’m the one who has to look at you.” He chuckles to himself as he joins me in the drink. “Now tell me, Blake, what or rather who was it that I pulled you away from last night? I know it was something.”
“Oh,” I begin, suddenly realizing that I really don’t want to talk about Carrie. And it’s not because I don’t care about her, but the exact opposite. I don’t want Ben, or anybody else, judging her. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Damn, she’s that serious?” He asks, nodding his head to himself as he does, as if he already knows the answers.
“What? No. I mean, who said it was a girl I was with?”
“Well, you just did. Plus, how long have I known you? Where else would you be?”
“At work? Meetings? Clients? I could have been doing lots of things.” As I speak, I notice the look on Ben’s face. He isn’t having any of it. “Okay, fine. I was on a date. You happy?”
“Always,” he beams to himself. “But it has nothing to do with you. Now tell me, who is she?”
“Just a girl,” I begin, as I try my best to act nonchalant. “Her name’s Carrie. We met at my high-school reunion. She was a waitress there. We’ve been on a couple of dates. So, it’s no big deal. Last night was our second, and truth be told, it was actually pretty good and…” I trail off as I become aware of how much I am talking. The whole time, Ben watches me, nodding while wearing a very obvious smirk.
“Sounds like you’re in love,” he jokes, taking another sip of his drink.
“What?” I say, a little too quickly. “Not possible. Not by a long shot.”
Although I say the words, I don’t believe them. Not fully anyway. Although I don’t want to say the L word, there is definitely something between Carrie and me that defies explanation. There’s more there than just a fling.
“Okay, whatever you want to say,” he continues, still wearing that same smug look. “Just know that I’m your best friend, and I’ve never heard you say more than two words about a girl. Ever.”
“Whatever,” I say as I shake my head.
But as I take another sip, watching Ben out of the corner of my eye, I can’t help but hate how much he knows me. And worse than that, I can’t help but hate how on the money he is.
Despite what I tell myself, I’d be lying if I don’t admit that I have feelings for Carrie. Ones that I can’t explain, no matter how hard I try.
Chapter 14
CARRIE
I’m sitting at my laptop, staring at the screen in shock, my mouth hanging open. I look at the page several times, and each time that I do, I become more and more convinced that what I am seeing isn’t true. It can’t be? And yet, there is no way that it isn’t.
I woke up with thoughts of Lyndsey. Even though I wasn’t adopted into her family until I was eight, she always did her best to make me feel like I belonged. For that, I was forever grateful and could never thank her enough.
So, as I lay in bed, I decided to do something that I hadn’t done since she had died. I was going to delete her Facebook page. Her parents, well, my adoptive parents, asked me to handle the technical side of things concerning Lyndsey’s death and I readily agreed. Closing her Facebook account may seem like a small thing, but to me, it is a huge deal. It’s an admission tha
t she is gone. Forever.
I hadn’t so much as touched it since she passed as she hardly used it, and now, it is like I am erasing her. But it has to be done. For closure, if nothing else.
But before I deleted it, I decided to go through her old photos, and that was when I saw him. Photos of Blake, a much younger Blake, plastered throughout an album of her high school memories before Facebook. As I devoured each photo, I very slowly began to realize who Blake is.
He is Lyndsey’s ex-boyfriend. The two dated in high school and broke up just before college. I never met the guy, but I knew of him. One thing in particular, I remember it like it was yesterday. Lyndsey came to me in tears. She told me that she had gotten pregnant by Blake. But that wasn’t why she was crying. She was crying because she said that he dumped her once she told him she was pregnant. She then had a miscarriage and to cope with the sadness she started drinking and doing drugs, which spiraled out of control over time. Her twenties were spent in and out of rehab. My sister had only just got her life back on track when she died.
I sit at my laptop, still staring at her Facebook page. I can’t believe that it is him. I should have known that he knew Lyndsey, as the two went to the same high school and were in the same year, but I never made the connection.
And now, he wants me to have his baby. The irony isn’t lost on me one little bit.
What is odd is how torn I am by the whole thing. On the one hand, a part of me has hated this man since that day Lyndsey came to me. I used to lie awake and plot what I would do if I ever came across him in real life. The revenge I would seek. But now, I don’t know what to do. I like him. I do. But do I like him enough?
Sure, he’s handsome and sweet, but he hurt my sister. He broke her apart, and from that, she never recovered. Despite my feelings for the guy, I just don’t know if I can go through with what he wants.
I seethe as more and more memories come back to me. That day in particular, as my sister wept on the floor of my bedroom. Lost in the moment, I come up with a plan, a delightfully devilish one that my sister would be proud of.
